


Seaweed Noodles & Jasmine Tea

by CoffeePancake



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-19 14:20:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19358743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeePancake/pseuds/CoffeePancake
Summary: Collection of one-shots: Korra and Asami, in many different ways, but always together... well, usually.





	1. The Meet-and-Greet

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! I hope you enjoy my collection of Korrasami works featuring various, mostly AU, one-shots. 
> 
> I'll update whenever I can (thanks to funemployment).
> 
> This prompt is: famous person and fan meeting at the red carpet AU. Head's up: there was no red carpet. Oh well.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami Sato is the haughty heiress to and recently appointed CEO of Future Industries. She's curiously at a meet-and-greet for the Avatar in order to make a business deal.

Asami would never admit it, not in this lifetime or the next. Yet, here she was, waiting with these indigent people—young, old, otaku—for the past hour and a half for a meet-and-greet. This was unbefitting of her, but she told herself it was strategic. She was the youngest owner of a company, ever—a trendsetter, an icon, one of Republic City’s hottest bachelorettes, and a solid number three on Fordes’ latest edition of _30 Under 30_. Young girls, start-up entrepreneurs, and even her seasoned colleagues admired her. She was an ambitious young woman, and her father and the board of directors unanimously appointed her Future Industries’ new CEO upon her father’s retirement. She always strove to succeed. She put in the work. She studied her competitors.

And that was why she was gathered outside City Hall for a chance to meet one-on-one with whom Fordes considered the “most influential” person under thirty: Avatar Korra. She needed to see this competition for herself. Sure, she was waiting in line like a commoner at a meet-and-greet, and sure, she’d read every single edition of _Avatar History_ , looked up centuries worth of recorded archives for Avatar mentions, and done as much research as she could on Korra (but wasn’t able to glean much besides age; the White Lotus did an excellent job on keeping the southerner’s identity under wraps), but what started as a petty—though one-sided—rivalry burgeoned into genuine interest.

Asami adjusted her sunglasses, glaring disdainfully at the shoulders jostling against her. The rational part of her wondered why she didn’t just pull some strings and organize a meeting between her and the Avatar at Future Industries. In fact, Asami could just arrange a private meeting, a one-on-one lunch, or even dinner at Kwong’s—the whole restaurant bought out, of course—with the bronze-skinned warrior. She could do it because she was rich and, like Korra, powerful. She could call her assistant and— _snap!_ —those guards standing watch would shepherd her to the front of the line where she’d saunter past those front-row slackers who’d been around since morning. She could, but waiting in line like everyone else, she reasoned, was the perfect disguise. Asami knew that her wealth and political pull could intimidate people—an ugly voice in her head that she often ignored: _intimidate the Avatar, really?_ —and she didn’t want the bender to plaster on a diplomatic facade and feel out-of-place in a stuffy office or a clangorous factory. She wanted Korra to be genuine, as Asami was sure she was genuine with all her fan—

Those who were interested in meeting the Avatar.

Asami looked at her wrist-watch. Her stomach knotted. Another few moments and she could finally meet the renowned bender and understand why Republic City’s most prominent business publication put the Avatar before a rising tycoon like Asami. She chalked up her perspiration to the sweltering noon sun, though she applauded herself for forgoing her usual getup in favor of this cute sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline (this was the most suitable outfit for the weather, really). Despite the hem ending high above her knees, she still felt oddly flushed. It had to be the pressing crowd standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder, and it was the wait that was killing her feet, not the new pair of gorgeous heels that highlighted her calves.

Suddenly, a rising buzz pulled Asami’s eyes to the front of the line. A young bespectacled woman, dressed in drab colors and carrying a megaphone, announced, “Hello! Avatar Korra has arrived!” There were whoops and cheers. “Please form an orderly line to the right of the stairs! You will be led one-by-one, unless you are in a group, to the meeting room! Each party has two minutes to talk to the Avatar!”

Just as a couple metal-bending guards retracted the cable line, the mass began squeezing into a raucous file. Asami side-stepped, remembering the back of the old man’s head that she’d been staring at for nearly two hours. She moved to tighten the gap, when a woman and child barged forward, effectively getting in front of her. Did they just…?

Asami’s eye twitched. She’d obviously been in line and these people had the _audacity_ to cut her. “Excuse me!”

The woman turned around, smiling curiously—obliviously, even—at the CEO. “Yes?”

Asami had a hundred things to say about how rude they were to skip in front of the heiress and to disregard the principle of queues, until a stuffed animal was shoved into her field of vision.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!… Stop it, Emi!… My daughter here is just so excited to finally meet the Avatar…. Emi, stop doing that.” 

“Avatar Korra is _so cool_!” the young child exclaimed, ignoring her mother and continuing to wave the ragged polar-bear dog in Asami’s face. The child’s Naga toy was a joke compared to the life-sized replica propped in the corner of Asami’s expansive bedroom. “She’s so strong, and tough, and she’s from the Water Tribe and my gramma’s from the Water Tribe too, and she’s got a _big_ polar-bear dog and _I’m_ gonna get a real one some day…”

Asami drowned out the girl’s yammering. She shut her eyes and counted three deep breaths, willing herself to accept that she wasn’t going to recover her place in line. It wouldn’t matter whether she was ahead or behind, especially with this blabbering kid around.

“I’m so sorry.” Asami opened her eyes again to look at the sheepish mother. Her daughter’s attention was already elsewhere, pretending to bend all matters of elements by shouting and gesturing wildly. “Emi’s been a huge fan ever since Avatar Korra came out to Republic City. She’s collected every newspaper clipping on the Avatar that she could find,” she smiled, fondly. Asami felt a slight, different pang, remembering something she’d almost forgotten from long ago. “This is the first time I’ve been able to take her to see Avatar Korra at her meet-and-greets. Is this your first time, too?”

“… Yes.”

“Oh, how long have you been a fan? I heard people love to collect—”

“I’m not a fan!” the businesswoman snapped, startling the mother. She felt her face redden under her shades, just a bit. The heat and the crowd suddenly felt oppressive. “… I’m just here to propose a business deal to the Avatar.”

“… Oh. Okay….” Waiting in line at a fan meet-and-greet didn’t seem like the most effective place to conduct a business deal, but the frown on the jet-haired woman’s face deterred the mother from voicing that. She cautiously turned back around, her daughter distractedly shadow-bending beside her.

The industrialist was livid at such an insinuation. She was only here to witness the latest craze for herself (and maybe because, after moving a meeting around, she had time). Not only was the bender ranked higher than she was in influential power, but from what the CEO had heard floating around Republic City’s dating pool, the Water Tribe transplant was being considered the “hottest single alive,” too—and she’d only arrived six months ago! It was competition. Asami Sato, beautiful heiress to one of the largest conglomerates in the world, was a fan of no one. People adored _her_. So what if the Avatar could bend all the elements? She hadn’t done anything notable yet besides bust a few gang hideouts and show up to President Raiko’s banal speeches about peace and harmony.

But, the small voice in the back of her mind crooned, if everything worked out, maybe she and Korra could meet again. The industrialist was still an engineer at heart. It would be an excellent opportunity for Korra to answer some scientific inquiries, and who better to ask them than one of the brightest minds in the nation? This meeting could be the start of something academic—or a potential business opportunity even. Korra could help Asami in her designs for a more fuel-efficient engine, and the spiritual idol would be good publicity for Future Industries’ mechanistic image. Not only that, the infuriating voice sang, but her enemies would be totally green with envy if she and the handsome Avatar hit it off.

As acquaintances, that is. Friends, possibly.

Asami distracted herself with people watching: the expressions she saw upon the faces of those leaving the building, she knew that those looks of awe and bright smiles were real. It was the same appearance she had whenever she crafted a new invention or optimized a piece of machinery. Fortunately, the line was moving quickly, almost like clockwork, but the CEO began to wonder—not for the first or the fiftieth time—what kind of person the Avatar was. She knew what Korra looked like; she’d spent enough time glowering at magazine covers and newspapers featuring the fit, blue-eyed southerner. She could pick her out of a horde of hundreds, probably even thousands, even if the younger woman wasn’t in her usual Water Tribe garb. While her looks were objectively—and perhaps even, subjectively—good-looking, what would Avatar Korra’s personality be like? Would she be as level-headed and otherworldly as her predecessor, Avatar Aang? Would she be as wise and thoughtful like the stories described Avatar Roku? Or, would she be cocky and impetuous? Or, reticent and shy?

Asami started to shift from heel to heel. What if she and the warrior _didn’t_ get along? What if the younger woman didn’t like non-benders and that one rumor she heard months ago about the Avatar wanting to impose bending supremacy was true? What if she was actually a crass, raspy-lunged individual who preferred the vices of the Red Light District? What if she was boring, mind-numbing in conversation—or worse, what if she was incredibly fascinating and brimming with tales of adventure and heroism and Asami was the one who was dry as gilacorn bone?

A practical-minded engineer who fiddled with grease and yuans and rankings, all of which started to seem a little less significant than Asami recalled. Before she could dwell on her thoughts much further, it was suddenly her turn to enter. She was so lost in her ruminations that she didn’t even notice ascending the stairs or passing the ornate columns or the absence of the mother and child, until the bespectacled assistant beckoned her onwards.

“Excuse me, miss. The Avatar is now free to meet with you. Please follow the signs to the room and keep noises to a minimum.”

Asami startled, finally seeing where she was in the queue. She moved forward. As she walked through the elaborate doors, she took off her sunglasses to notice the cable lines and directional posters that led a short path down the corridor. She followed them, the clacking of her heels echoing as loudly against the marble interior as her hammering pulse in her ears. Really, the president should consider moving the meet-and-greets to a more relaxed and informal space, like Narook’s or some other local business, rather than the intimidating building that reeked of bureaucracy. Asami reasoned that she wasn’t used to it and that was why she was on edge, even though she’d conducted public service business a handful of times inside Raiko’s top-floor office.

The door to the meeting room was guarded by a uniformed officer, whose face initially registered surprise when she saw the CEO. She smartly regained composure and said nothing; instead, she nodded politely at the woman to enter. Bright blue Avatar Korra posters and banners lined the walls, clashing aesthetically against the conservative decor of the room. A few metal-bending guards and general officers stood along the walls, blending into the background, but still noticeable enough to signal that they were keeping watch over someone of importance. She didn’t contemplate long on anyone else, but the figure in the middle of the room.

Here, in person, was Avatar Korra, the legendary keeper of world balance, who looked utterly exhausted.

Asami was a bit confused. She was anticipating a proud warrior standing at attention or a shy young woman perched behind a pile of signed Avatar posters or a perceptive spiritual guru meditating in lotus-position, but she didn’t expect to see someone so… _humanly_ nodding off behind the tiny desk.

“Avatar Korra, your next visitor is here,” a gangly older man called to the softly snoring bender. “Avatar Korra?” He cleared his throat and squawked, “Avatar Korra!”

“Ah!” the young woman started, eyes wide with surprise. She blushed at her undignified scream.

“Your next guest.” The older man fanned out his arms, signaling the businesswoman to step forward.

Asami caught the moment tiredness vanished from clouded blue eyes to reveal a deep blue that drew her in, like a grain of sand on the swirling ocean tide. The walls, the gaudy posters and rigid guards, the desk, they all evaporated until all that was left was her and the Avatar, and this invisible current that pulled Asami steadily in towards the sun-kissed warrior. Time didn’t seem to matter. She’d lost touch with spirituality when she was a child, but, standing before the younger woman, she wondered if this was what it felt like to be connected again. 

“Two minutes!”

Asami ripped her gaze from the Avatar, who looked equally abashed. She filed a mental note to turn the older man into a test subject for the Satomobile’s latest unproven, self-driving prototype.

The bender extended a polite hand. “Um, hey, I’m Korra.” Her voice was soft, with a hint of toughness riding the low tone. Pink tinged her cheeks.

“Asami.” She took the hand, marveling at how strong and firm it was. A part of her wondered if she should’ve introduced herself as the CEO of Future Industries, simply to watch the Avatar’s expression, but she thought better of it. What purpose would doing that serve?

“Asami,” Korra repeated, smiling warmly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

It was so strange, Asami mused. She’d spent innumerable hours wondering about and reading up on this person—or at least, incarnations of this person—and she felt like she both knew the Avatar and had absolutely no clue who this young woman was. Now that she was presented with the opportunity to get a sense of this mystical puzzle, the questions wouldn’t come. “I…” She then realized that their hands were still together. She quickly dropped hers, as if zapped. “S-sorry.” Really, what was wrong with the esteemed Asami Sato? She could’ve sworn she had a grand plan of stomping up to the Avatar, complaining about the long wait, and then establishing herself as Republic City’s leading lady.

“It’s not a problem, really,” Korra returned. She reached out again, as if to soothe the engineer, but decided to sheepishly rub the back of her neck.

Asami gawked at the chiseled muscles in the bender’s bare arms—in fact, the shorter woman was solidly built, dense with coiled strength that the CEO was sure could easily lift a Satomobile, with her in it, too. She briefly pondered what the Avatar’s fitness regimen was, though Korra’s inquisitive brow made her realize that she was staring. She cleared her throat, convincing herself that her flushed skin was due to the cramped room. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Avatar.”

“Please, Korra’s fine.”

“… Korra, then.” Asami thought she saw blue eyes linger on her lips.

There was an awkward silence.

“Uh…” Korra attempted, fiddling with her thumbs, “… so, Asami, what do you do?”

“I’m an engineer. I build machines.”

Korra brightened up at that. She said, “That’s cool! What kind of machines do you build?”

“Oh, just engines, cars, things like that.” It was rare that, after being asked her profession, Asami didn’t list her greatest achievements and accolades. She enjoyed watching the other person’s eyes widen as they comprehended how brilliant and technologically savvy she was. But, once again, it just… didn’t feel _right_ saying those things now.

“One more minute,” the gangly assistant warned. Asami had forgotten that he was lurking around them and felt self-conscious, particularly that he’d seen her behave so unusually ruffled. She turned her attention back to the Avatar, whose brows were knitted in concentration.

“Wait… Asami… Asami… like Sato? Future Industries’ _Asami Sato_?”

Any other day, the businesswoman would’ve perhaps felt pleased that her illustrious reputation and title preceded her—even the Avatar knew who she was! It also meant that, though she’d assumed the role of CEO a mere four months ago, the headlines had spread and she would be a household name soon. She smirked, feeling her confidence inflate again. “None other.”

“Wow, I never expected to see you at one of these events.” Korra’s voice was colored with surprise. Was that also adoration in the other woman’s voice?

“I had time.” 

“You know, you’re really not like what they say you are.”

Just like that, Asami’s lips dropped into a frown. Her eyes narrowed dangerously at Korra.

Realizing that she messed up, the bender threw her hands up and backtracked, “Um, that is, I just…”

“ _What do you mean?_ ”

“Thirty more seconds, ma’am.”

“Um, I mean, uh…” Korra fidgeted under the glare. She sighed and accepted that she wasn’t going to get out of this one. “Well, they said that you… you’d be much… meaner?… Stuck up?… Too good to talk to anyone who wasn’t worth a million yuans?” With each relayed insult, she attempted a progressively larger, placating smile.

The mood was rapidly souring.

“And who’s ‘they’?”

“Hey, does it really matter—”

“Korra.”

“Alright, but don’t be too upset at them?” Not getting an agreement or denial, Korra relented, “They were the people who interviewed me for that stupid Fordes article.”

The industrialist was going to make some heated phone calls when she returned to her office.

“Please.”

A gentle hand on Asami pulled her attention from thoughts of persuading the board of directors to approve her purchase of a certain media company. She glanced from the weight on her arm to Korra’s concerned face—maybe she did deserve to be dubbed the most eligible person in the city—after Asami, that was.

The Avatar didn’t remove her hand. “Listen, I don’t believe them, now that I’ve met you. I don’t think they know what they’re talking about; I mean, isn’t their goal just to sell magazines, whether or not what they say is true? I know we just met, but I feel like you’re a genuine person.”

A part of Asami wanted to believe her, but… perhaps, the gossip was right. That would explain why her employees rarely spoke more than a “hello” or “goodbye” to her when she passed through the company halls. That would explain why she’d failed to secure a relationship lasting longer than a few months. That would explain why she didn’t have close friends, if she could even call those who clung to her social status “friends” at all. “No, they were right. You don’t really know me, Avatar.”

“People can change, Asami.”

The assistant slapped his palm onto the desk, startling the two young women. He announced, “Time’s up! Ma’am, thank you for meeting the Avatar. Please make—”

“Guan, shut up for a moment.”

His brows disappeared into his hat. “B-but, Avatar Korra—”

“Avatar’s orders. Give me a few.” She glared at the man, until he wheeled around with a “hmph” and “ _final_  thirty seconds.”

Asami furrowed her shapely brows. “What do you mean?”

“You’re right. I _don’t_ know you well, but I believe you can change, if what you say is true.”

Or maybe this was the spiritual power of the Avatar. She came here to figure out who the bender was, yet here she was, within two minutes, divulging her problems to the other woman. The CEO scoffed, “Did you give life advice to all those other people?”

Korra chuckled, “No, not really.”

“Good, don’t make it a habit.”

“Well... since I’m new to Republic City and I’ve still got to learn the customs around here, care to show me around?”

That was unexpected. Asami, for once, didn’t know what to say.

Korra flushed. She plastered on a grin that belied her embarrassment. “I-I mean, you don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I just thought, well… we had a good talk and I’d like to get to know you, and uh, you know, since you run Future Industries, maybe we can… I mean, it can be a… I don’t know, a… a business opportunity?” She finished lamely. The books and articles and research said nothing about the exalted Avatar inhabiting the body of a perfectly normal, stuttering, occasionally awkward, and kind young woman. Those ranks really didn’t mean anything… or maybe they did, depending on who was reading them.

Asami smiled. “Sounds like a deal.” She extended her hand this time, which Korra shyly shook.

“Great, it’s a deal!”

Asami flipped her glossy black hair over her shoulder, her green eyes twinkling at Korra’s shimmering blue. “You know where to find me then. See you, Avatar.” Not waiting for a response and feeling like she didn’t need one, she turned, her heels clicking the way she came. 


	2. Just Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra is a teenage blockhead.

_ I’m sorry. I’m just… not into you like that. _

Korra finished relaying what happened and belly-flopped onto her bed. She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and trying her damnedest to stop those words from repeating over and over in her head. She’d sprinted home from school after swim practice, played fetch with Naga, blasted music until her ears rang, even gorged on a carton of ice cream, but no matter what she did, the Vee Day rejection just seemed to echo incessantly in her ears until she had to call her best friend over.

The space beside her dipped with a familiar weight. She felt a comforting hand on her back and relaxed into the touch. “Oh, Korra,” she heard Asami’s soft sigh. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Korra gave a muffled reply into her bed. She was positive that this was how her teenage life would end—from humiliation. If she was lucky, the mattress would swallow her whole, but since she evidently wasn’t, she’d just have to never leave her room again. Maybe if she tried to stop breathing…

“What was that?”

… except Asami probably wouldn’t like that very much. The brunette turned her head. “I said, ‘I’m sure he does….’ You know, I really thought we had chemistry,” she lamented, recalling brushing shoulders and bashful looks with the orange-eyed senior. She could’ve sworn the physical closeness during practices wasn’t only because she was varsity swim captain and that the handsome boy had actually felt a mutual attraction. “Who am I kidding? It was probably all in my head. I should just quit the team so I wouldn’t have to see Mako’s stupid face anymore.”

“Hey, don’t let what happened stop you from doing what you love.” Her friend squeezed her shoulder. “You’re a star athlete and the first junior to ever make varsity captain. Are you really going to let someone take that away from you?”

“No…” Sports, especially swimming, shaped Korra’s life, and as embarrassed as she was, it’d be more mortifying if rumors got around that she dropped it like a hot potato because of a boy. She didn’t think her pride could take any more battering. “… but so what? Am I supposed to own that I got rejected?”

“Well, yeah.” At the younger girl’s pout, Asami quickly added, “I’m not saying you have to do it tonight, just when you’re ready. There are  _so_  many people out there who know how amazing you are and would love to date you.”

“Yeah, right,” Korra scoffed as she sat up. The only one who’d recently shown any remote interest in her was Wu, and the scrawny teenager was gossiped to like anything that breathed and walked on two feet. “Who’d want to go out with a loser like me? If only I was hotter, and smarter, and taller—”

“Korra, stop.” Asami’s face was set with a deep frown. The firmness in the techie’s usually gentle voice stunned the athlete into respectful silence. She knew that there were only a few things that could ever work up kind Asami, and those were broken machine parts, her parents nagging at her to earn flawless grades, and anyone being mean to her best friend—even if it was Korra herself. “Please don’t say things like that. You’re  _perfect_  the way you are. Besides… I’d date you.”

The sincerity behind those vivid green eyes was so real that a light pink dusted the junior’s skin. She said, “Oh, ha ha. Not only is she the smartest and prettiest girl in school, but she’s also the nicest. Thanks for trying to make me feel better about myself.”

“What? Wait, I didn’t mean it like—”

“No, seriously,” Korra took the other teenager’s hands in her own, always amazed at how soft they were despite all the contraption-tinkering, “thanks for trying to make me feel better, Asami. You always know what to say to get me to stop beating myself up.” She grinned, trying to convey as much earnestness as her friend did. “ _You’re_  perfect.” It wasn’t often, she thought, but she appeared to strike the senior speechless.

Asami searched Korra’s face, and her gaze drifted to their joined hands. Before she could reply however, her phone chirped. “Ugh, sorry, let me check that.” She left her spot on the bed and reached for her purse. She sucked her teeth when she saw the notification. “Shoot, I need to get going.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Asami responded as she began to pack up. “I need to help my team prep for this weekend’s competition.”

The swimmer stood up after her friend. Her nose wrinkled. “Wait, you didn’t tell me you had Robo-Club today. If I knew I wouldn’t have asked you to come here!”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you.” Asami flipped her hair over her shoulder and smiled innocently at the other teenager.

“Asami…”

Asami slipped on her cardigan and slung her purse over her shoulder. She said, “Korra, I’m the president of the club. They’re not going to kick me off just because I skip one meeting. I had something more important I had to take care of, whatever.” They made their way downstairs to the front door. “Text me or call me if you need anything, okay?”

Korra nodded. There were so many times, like today, when she had done just that and the budding engineer, always without hesitation, remained on the phone or came speeding over to be with Korra until she felt better. She threw her arms around Asami and buried her face into her shoulder.

“Oof! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the athlete whispered. “… You’re the best, you know that?”

There was a pause. “You too. I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

Korra let go, beaming at Asami. “See you tomorrow.”

The following day at school passed slower than Korra would’ve liked. It was Vee Day, but she tried to focus on the fact that it was the end of the week and the beginning of the weekend—not on the couples who wore matching outfits to commemorate the faux holiday, or the couples who walked hand-in-hand down the corridors, or the couples who stole pecks between classes, or the couples who were gifting each other candies and balloons and flowers, or the couples who were so sickeningly staring into each other’s eyes and blocking her way while she tried to access her locker and enter her classrooms. She’d heard heartfelt confessions and nauseatingly sweet replies, and she’d also heard the not-so-great confessions that reminded her too much of her own foray into the Vee Day dating world.

It was a challenge to curb her crabbiness and it was made harder when the only presents she’d received were not from secret admirers, but from Coach Tenzin, who gave sweets to his swimmers every year, and from Asami, who gifted her a stuffed polar bear and a baggie of homemade cookies this time. She didn’t even get anything from Wu of all desperate people, and she felt worse for being disappointed by that. She spent the last two years as single and it never bothered her, but now, she didn’t want to graduate high school without ever being in a relationship. At least, she reasoned with herself, she’d already had her first kiss over a dumb truth-or-dare game on the middle school playground.

Korra knew that it shouldn’t be such a big deal and that there were so many people who were single and happy. The prime example was Asami, senior class valedictorian, daughter of one of the most well-to-do families in the city, and easily considered one of the nicest and prettiest humans ever. As long as Korra and Asami had been friends, the athlete had never seen the budding engineer date anyone, let alone show interest in anything other than her machines, and that was in spite of all the boys who’d tried and even some who’d enlisted Korra’s help. So then it was no surprise when she heard the excited murmurs throughout the grades about a certain obsidian-haired beauty and all the gifts and anonymous—and disclosed—love letters she’d gotten today.

Korra couldn’t resist her curiosity and, on her meandering way to World History, opted to cut through the senior hallway to see for herself what the buzz was about. She knew where Asami’s locker was; she’d waited there a number of times for the older girl, and even if she forgot the exact location, she had an extremely good idea where it sat the moment her eyes caught a locker brimming with Vee Day cards, bouquets, balloons, candies and sweet buns, and plush toys. It was the most decorated one of all.

The corridors were mostly empty, as classes had already begun, so Korra was surprised to catch a ponytailed student at her friend’s locker. “Hey!” the swimmer growled. She was ready to have a row with this girl for attempting to steal Asami’s gifts—though it was debatable if the teenager would even notice if something was missing with the plethora of presents she received—until Korra spotted the pink card that the student slipped in.

The girl started at the shout. She wheeled around, her eyes wide with fright and embarrassment, and she looked like she wanted to bolt. Korra recognized that this was Anh, a fellow junior whom Asami had once spoken about in her Robo-Club. “H-hey,” Anh stammered, glancing at everything except the swimmer. “S-sorry, I didn’t see you. I—um…”

Korra didn’t know what to say, if she should comment on the card or pretend that she didn’t see it at all.

Anh decided for her. Shifting towards the other end of the corridor, she mumbled, “I-I got to go,” and without waiting for a response, she scurried away.

Korra watched her until she was alone in the hall. She walked up to Asami’s locker and looked at the overflowing door. It’d be impossible to determine which note was Anh’s, but what she just witnessed was unexpected. Then again, maybe it was a friendly note or a thank-you card, even though Korra’s gut told her otherwise.

“ _Excuse me_. Aren’t you supposed to be in class, Korra?”

She knew that voice; it haunted her in her nightmares. She quickly spun around and stiffened under the hard gaze of Headmaster Beifong. She was going to die where she stood, and if she wasn’t, then her mother was going to kill her for getting detention again. “U-um, y-yes, Headmaster. I was just, uh, on my way to the bathroom.—”

“You’re pretty far from the bathrooms, aren’t you?” Korra stopped mid-stride and gulped. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but a junior like you wouldn’t have a locker in the  _senior_  hallway, would they?” The gray-haired woman crossed her arms over her chest. “Unless… you’re here for a reason.”

Korra forced herself to look up, and she followed the headmaster’s gaze to her friend’s locker. It took a few beats, but the brunette finally realized what the older woman was insinuating. She noted that Beifong’s typical scowl was replaced with something almost  _delicate_. Perhaps, if she played her cards right, she could avoid getting detention for the sixth time this year. “Uh… yes,” the teenager replied slowly, gauging the woman’s reaction. “Y’know, leaving a gift… a Vee Day gift… for wonderful, smart, beautiful Asami Sato. I just… um, didn’t want anyone to see.” That was mildly convincing.

Surprisingly, Beifong merely nodded. “Don’t let me catch you outside of class again without a pass.”

The athlete nearly whooped that her plan worked, but she had to keep it cool. “Y-yes, ma’am.” Korra was mid-salute, but immediately pulled her hand down. She whirled on the balls of her feet and rushed to World History, where she proceeded to ignore the lesson and wondered,  _should_  she have gotten Asami a gift?

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Korra was grateful that it was the end of the week and she didn’t have swim practice; she didn’t know how she’d react if she saw Mako again with his rejection still fresh in her mind. She didn’t linger after school so that she could avoid her schoolmates’ lovey-dovey reunions with their boyfriends or girlfriends or whatever. She didn’t even stop by Asami’s locker to ask if the older girl wanted to hang out, needing time to reconcile her thoughts on what she’d seen in the school hallway and the puzzling guilt of not giving her friend a reciprocating Vee Day gift. She stepped through her front door, resolving to spend her day locked in her room and to marathon murder mysteries and trite documentaries—anything to keep herself distracted.

“Korra?” Senna called from the couch, where she had been reading a book.

“Hey, mom.” Korra tossed off her shoes and withstood Naga’s welcome-back licks.

“You’re home early, dear. Are you okay?” The girl recognized her mother’s worried frown. Since she’d started high school, she’d spent practically every start of the weekend hanging out with her friends, yet here she was directly home from school, something that she’d rarely done unless she was sick.

Before her mother could continue fretting, Korra plastered on a smile. “I’m fine. Everyone was just busy so I didn’t have plans.” Senna’s concern transformed into sympathy. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m going to my room.” Once she entered her little sanctuary, she chucked her pack somewhere in the corner and dropped onto her bed. The last thing she needed was her mother to feel bad for her. She closed her eyes to let her emotions soften, but her nose caught a whiff of a subtle, amber scent clinging to her sheets. She knew this perfume; she’d smelled it a thousand times. Unbidden images of Asami flitted through her mind.

The two had been friends since Korra was a freshman, when she was failing her first term of Algebra and was set up with Asami as her tutor. At first, the athlete thought the older girl was a prissy nerd who mentored underclassmen for community service hours; however, Korra would soon find out that Asami had more than enough logged time to satisfy her requirements. The stuffy valedictorian was actually a down-to-earth, friendly teenager who was wary of those who wanted to get close to her family’s status and was well-aware what her peers thought of her from their wild adulation to their furious envy. Korra didn’t care, and maybe that was why they got along—which many of her jealous classmates tried to capitalize on (“What, Asami Sato’s your tutor? Can we switch?” to “Asami Sato’s your tutor? Is it true that her dad bribes her teachers for her grades?”). Then, there was the other group of schoolmates who wanted to court the budding engineer. It was impossible to be the top in almost every social category and not be one of the most desired. Korra knew that Asami would have no trouble finding someone to date her, but she couldn’t understand why her friend was still single. Surely, Asami could have anyone she wanted, unless the older teenager was into married men, or not into romance at all, or into particular fetishes like zoophilia, or—the swimmer frowned as her imagination dashed—what if, she was already secretly dating someone and didn’t tell Korra because she knew the athlete also liked Mako and was sparing her feelings! Her frown deepened into her chin. She was positive she’d caught the boy checking out her friend at least a few times when Asami attended her swim meets. Not only that, but they were in the same grade and most likely the same classes, and Korra pictured all the note-passing and furtive looks the two shared between and during lessons. Worse, she imagined that all the gifts and letters Asami received today were actually from Mako!

A buzz snatched her attention to the phone in her pocket. It was a text message from Asami.  _Hey, I was hoping to see you after school today. Did you leave early?_

The junior willed her heart to slow down from her previous—and probably inaccurate—imaginations.  _yeah_

The techie’s reply came quickly.  _Oh no! :( Are you sick?_

_ im fine _

A few moments passed.  _Are you still thinking about what happened yesterday?_

Korra scoffed, of course, Asami knew her too well.  _is ok_

_ Hm… alright. Btw, I hope you enjoyed the cookies. _

Korra then remembered Asami’s gifts in her pack and retrieved them. The stuffed polar bear’s snout was squished and the cookies were crumbled in the small plastic. She felt a stab of guilt. She added the plush to the line of objects on her bookshelf that was swiftly being overrun by presents from the other girl, and as Korra considered each thing, her heart weighed heavier. She was being petulant, and Asami had done nothing to bear the brunt of that rude behavior.  _thx for the gifts i love them_ , she sent.

_ I’m glad. :) _

But the guilt didn’t subside. She understood Asami being single as much as she understood why the amazing older teenager chose to be friends with her. Morosely digging into the cookies, she plopped before her television and flipped through the channels, trying not to think about Asami or Mako, or even Anh. She settled on a murder mystery about a killer who maimed his victims—all strapping young men—with eating utensils; it was wholly unsentimental and what she needed. For over an hour, she watched as the protagonist, a red-haired jock who was charmingly arrogant and constantly drew the ire of his professors, stumbled upon clues of his missing classmates’ whereabouts. The jock was steadily growing closer to discovering the identity of the killer, when he was bopped in the head and woke up tied to a chair in his school’s darkened chemistry room. Just as his attacker appeared, Korra heard the sound of her doorbell and Naga’s excited barks.

“Asami! How nice to see you!” Her mother’s greeting carried upstairs. “Korra, come down, sweetie! Asami’s here!”

The swimmer tore her concentration from the blood-stained utensils on-screen to her door. She went downstairs where her mother and the other teenager (Naga was happily panting at the girl’s feet) were chatting at the entrance. From the looks of Asami’s shimmering hair, fresh makeup, and thigh-length dress, she had to have gone back home to freshen up before coming here.

“Hey, Korra.” Asami’s smile was as warm as ever.

“Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here…”

Senna’s eyes twinkled at her daughter. “I’ll let you two girls talk. It was nice seeing you, Asami, and Korra, let me know if you’re staying out late. Come, Naga.” She patted the dog’s head and led them both upstairs.

“What’s my mom talking about?”

“Well,” Asami began, “judging from your texts it seemed like you could use some cheering up.”

Korra scratched the back of her head. “Yeah, I’m sorry for earlier. I sounded like a jerk.”

“It’s okay. I know you were hoping that today would go differently, but we can still have fun.”

Korra crossed her arms over her chest. “Asami… I feel bad. You don’t have to spend every Vee Day with me. I don’t want you to not go on dates because you feel like you have to take care of me or something.” She looked away. “I know I’ve been a horrible friend.—”

“Korra, first,” Asami reached out and put a hand on the shorter girl’s arm, “I’m not interested in anyone who asked me out. Second, I like spending time with you and I don’t see it as taking care of you. Third, you’re not a horrible friend; you’re my _best_ friend. And fourth…” Korra briefly wondered if the stylish senior accidentally applied a little more rouge than usual. “… I’d like to go on a date with  _you_.”

Korra recalled Anh again, fidgeting and red-faced before Asami’s decorated locker. The athlete had seen same-gender couples and other configurations of partnerships before—living in a major city helped with that—but she grew up in a culture that demanded privacy and a family that espoused the same. Being with someone of the same gender wasn’t abnormal, but her parents never talked about it and all the messaging she received was  _only_  about boys dating girls and men marrying women. That didn't seem okay.

Suddenly, the thought hit her, what if Asami liked other girls? It wouldn’t change their friendship, she was confident about that, but if they were best friends, why didn’t—or wouldn’t—she tell her something this big? Was Asami afraid that she would judge her? Would she judge her? Would she be Asami’s wing-woman? What if she didn’t get along with her future girlfriend? What if Asami already had a girlfriend (that would debunk the Mako-Asami nightmare, then)? Had Asami dated or kissed other girls before? How did she know that she liked other girls? Oh, spirits, what if—

“Uh, Korra?”

Korra jumped. “What!” She swung her gaze onto Asami, as if seeing the porcelain-skinned teenager for the very first time. Memories of soft touches, tender smiles, doting whispers, affectionate gazes, and the sweet, amber perfume clung to her. Her heart clattered against her ribcage, like a bunch of pieces clicking into place.

“We don’t have to go. I’m sorry for pressuring you—”

“No!” The swimmer felt her face reddening, and she felt too hot, even for her sleeveless top. “I—I mean, I want to go. Just give me minute to change?”

Asami nodded slowly, her brows cinched together in an unspoken question that Korra didn’t want to entertain right now—not when her own thoughts were speeding faster than any car the techie’s father could build. In her room, she took several meditative breaths that her coach taught her and willed herself to calm down. She had a hunch, and she was going to see where it led her—and if she was wrong, then she’d just have to apologize.

Asami drove them into the city where they had an early dinner at Narook’s Seaweed Noodlery, Korra’s choice. The food was cheap, always hit the spot, and the restaurant was bright enough that the swimmer could see her dining partner’s every expression. The meal and conversation were going typically, like all the other times they’d gone out to eat with friends, but Korra caught herself paying more attention to Asami’s laughter than she ever had before.

“Hey, I bet you can’t beat me in a noodle-slurping contest.” Korra smirked.

“Oh, you’re on!” They dug in, losing table manners and etiquette to their mouthfuls of giggles. As competitive as she was, there was no way Asami could beat the athlete’s voracious appetite.

“Losers pay,” Korra sighed, petting her victorious belly and ignoring the glares from the older patrons.

“I was going to anyway, and you’ve got something on your lip. Here,” the older girl reached towards Korra with a napkin, “let me.”

Korra stiffened under the gentle fingers dabbing at the corner of her mouth. She kept her wide blue eyes trained on Asami and noticed how the red-rose of her gloss heightened the soft contours of her lips. Their eyes locked, and for a tumultuous moment, the brunette didn’t dare breathe. Asami blinked away, her porcelain cheeks flushing rosily.

Korra cleared her throat. “D-do you want to… hit the arcade?”

The arcade was a local teenage hangout spot. The drive there was quiet, an impregnable silence as each girl was preoccupied with her own muddled thoughts, but that was hastily forgotten as they entered the space. It was teeming with young lovers, many of whom they recognized and who greeted them cheerily. They bumped into some of Asami’s classmates (who politely waved at them) and a few of Korra’s excited teammates (“Way to go, captain,” which she pretended not to hear). Fortunately, Mako wasn’t with any of them. They also came across Korra’s friend, Opal, and her date, Bolin, who kept staring at Korra such that the athlete had the distinct feeling that Mako had told his younger brother he’d rejected her. After beating the other pair in a head-to-head fighting game, Asami pulled Korra to a racing simulation where the younger girl easily lost.

“Korra, it’s a game! You don’t have to brake every time you get close to another car!” Asami laughed.

“I know, I know, it’s just habit.” She laid eyes on a hammer game and tugged the taller teenager along. “Let’s go there!”If there was one activity Korra loved more than playing sports, then it was the opportunity to flaunt her strength. Korra shocked nearby gamers by not only swinging the hammer with enough force to ring the bell, but also to dislodge it from its perch, causing the machine to spit out a whole roll of tickets.

“Oh yeah, who’s the champ!” She flexed in a variety of double-bicep poses.

Asami laughed, “You are.”

Korra grinned toothily. She knew how she wanted to spend her winnings. “Hey, let’s redeem these.” She jogged ahead to the prize counter and its many offerings and waited for Asami to catch up. “I think we’ve got enough for those huge stuffed ones, so pick one?”

“I know you like blue—”

“No, I mean, pick one that  _you_  want. It’s for you.”

“But you won the game.”

Then Korra said something that halted any further argument: “Can I just get my date something?”

After a couple more games that the swimmer handily lost (she claimed that it was chivalrous to let Asami win), they left with the older girl carrying the arcade’s biggest and cutest robot plush that slouched in the car’s backseat. It was getting late and the night was winding down, but they took one last trip to a dessert parlor where they stuffed their faces with confections and sweet buns. They relayed childhood stories of their favorite sticky treats, laughed about their classmates’ awed expressions when they caught sight of Asami walking out with her prize, and shared their surprise at some of their schoolmates’ unexpected couplings. When they returned to the car, a comfortable, pleasantly tired quiet settled over them. They eventually arrived in front of a familiar two-story home.

“You know,” Asami murmured, “I wouldn’t be surprised if there were rumors going around already.”

“About what?” Korra asked. She was content to stay in the car for a little longer.

“About me… well, us.”

“So? We went out together last year and the year before that.”

“Yeah, but we were with a group, Korra. This time it’s just us, and people are going to talk.” Asami frowned, and Korra could imagine her friend’s envious classmates salivating at the chance to badmouth her.

The brunette cocked her head to the side and wondered, despite all the signs that she replayed and the ones that she zeroed in on tonight, if her previous hunch was incorrect. “Does that… bother you?”

“Of course that bothers me. Those other girls have issues with me for whatever stupid reason, and I don’t want you to get caught in that.”

“I get that, but…” her cheeks warmed, “… I guess, two girls… on Vee Day…” She didn’t normally have trouble meeting Asami’s eyes, but Korra found herself struggling to do so without her face catching aflame. 

Asami registered what the younger teenager meant. “I see.” She shook her head. “... I think what matters most is that those two people are happy together.”

Korra reflected again on her stifling culture, her upbringing, and then her intuition that concurred with the older teenager. She thought of Anh and Asami, and considered her friend thoughtfully. “I agree,” because if loving someone of the same gender was wrong, then it didn’t make sense why the smartest, most elegant, most beautiful, and kindest person she knew would feel that way, unless it was totally right. 

“Even if I’m not Mako?” Asami teased.

“Who’s Mako?” Korra returned. The two girls laughed. “Text me when you get home.” She stepped out of the car.

“I will, and thanks for the robot. Am I also going to see you tomorrow at my competition?”

“Of course, I got to watch you crush the underclassmen’s dreams.” She grinned and ignored her friend’s eye-roll. “By the way…”

“Hm?”

Korra knew she was oftentimes dense, perhaps from playing contact sports one too many times, but she’d had an itching feeling all night that the brushing hands, stolen glances she’d caught Asami attempting, and shy smiles were incredibly similar to how Korra behaved with Mako in the past. The difference was that the athlete only recently realized that they were directed at  _her_  by her best friend. “… you make a great date.”

And when she beheld the radiant smile that Asami gave her, there was no misunderstanding. “You do too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt(s): friend-zone & "There's something on your lip. Here, let me."
> 
> I initially had a different idea for this fic, but then it became this. I'm toying around with the idea of turning it into a multi-chapter story with lots of angst, but my inner queer wanted a fluffy-ish ending. Oh well.


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